


Of biscuits and blessings

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Kissing, Meeting the Parents, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili's love is nervous about gaining Lady Dis' approval.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of biscuits and blessings

The lanes and thoroughfares of Erebor were bustling with activity, and you held your head high to greet everyone who acknowledged you with a nod or a smile as you passed, despite the tingling hum of your nerves and the clamminess of the hand that Fili held in his strong, sure grasp.

“I wonder if I should have brought the biscuits after all,” you fretted suddenly, glancing to the brown paper-wrapped package in your free hand, and Fili frowned.

“Why not? She’ll love them.”

“But it’s such a simple gift, and they’ll only remind her that I’m just a baker.”

The beads that adorned his braided mustache glinted in the light when he shook his head. “You must remember, Mum’s not led the life of the pampered princess,” he assured you. “Everyone worked hard in Ered Luin. If I brought home some dwarf lord’s spoiled daughter who didn’t know flour from talcum powder, she’d box my ears.”

You giggled, though the pattering of your heart quickened as Fili saluted the guard who stood at the entrance to the royal halls and led you down the long corridor. He drew up before an ornately carved oaken door, but showed no hurry to knock, instead stopping to slip his arms around your waist and smile warmly on you.

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “It’ll be fine.”

With a steadying sigh, you nodded, distractedly smoothing the collar of his coat over his chest, though you confessed, “I want so badly for her to like me.”

Fili’s kiss was soft on your forehead, and his gaze was full of encouragement. “She’ll love you…as I love you,” he promised, brushing your lips with his own before adding, low and yearning, “and when the time comes, if you’ll have me, I know she’ll be proud to call you daughter.”

A smile brightened your anxious face and your hand strayed to the coarse, golden hair of his beard as your lips sought his again, fervently this time, his arms encircling you more securely and your eyes falling closed in bliss until, with the click of a lock, the oaken door opened and the Lady Dis stood on the threshold with a surprised expression, taking in the sight of you in her son’s arms.

“Mum,“ Fili grinned, releasing you, and you dropped your gaze to the stone floor in embarrassment, his voice merely a buzzing in your ears as he formally introduced you, though you rallied to raise your eyes again at the sound of the lady herself repeating your name.

“How nice to finally meet you. Please, come in.”

Meekly, you followed Fili inside, mortified that you’d been so brazen as to be caught kissing him on his mother’s doorstep, but he seemed unconcerned, cheerfully guiding you to the sofa by the hearth and taking a seat close beside you, draping his arm over its back to rest lightly against your shoulders. Dis seated herself in the armchair opposite, and you had your first good look at the last daughter of Durin.

She was a dignified figure, a dark-haired beauty who had her brother the King’s angular features and regal bearing, but there was a warm spark in her hazel eyes – Kili’s eyes, it occurred to you – and her smile was gracious. Though her gown was of rich material, its design was restrained, and she wore no jewelry but a simple and well-worn wedding ring of engraved gold.

Lost in curious observation while Fili and Dis exchanged pleasantries, you regained awareness of the parcel in your hand and tentatively extended it to her. “I brought you some ginger biscuits, my lady,” you offered, and she took the package, raising her eyebrows pleasantly.

“Ginger biscuits? They’re my favorite,” she said, exchanging a knowing look with Fili. “How kind of you.”

“I hoped you might enjoy them,” you smiled, feeling the twitch of a nervous tremble in your lips and hoping she hadn’t seen it.

With an appraising look at you, Dis turned abruptly to her son. “Fili, would you be a dear and brew some tea for us to enjoy with these delicious biscuits?”

“At your service,” Fili answered good-naturedly, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before disappearing down the hallway to the kitchen, where the clink of cups and opening and closing of cupboards began to be heard.

Dis turned a a cordial smile upon you. “He is very fond of you, my son.”

A blush flamed in your cheeks, and you glanced to your folded hands in your lap before meeting her eyes again. “I am very fond of him.”

“You’re a baker…a fine one, Fili tells me.”

“I do enjoy my work,” you said modestly.

“Long days, though, I imagine?” Her voice was sympathetic, and you recalled Fili’s words: _Everyone worked hard in Ered Luin._

“Mornings do come early,” you admitted with a chuckle, “but I find it peaceful to be alone with my thoughts and the dough before everyone else is up and about.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, and there was a short pause before she spoke again, her tone light. “Though, perhaps you might rather be a queen, with cooks to knead the dough for you.”

Confusion furrowed your brow, and you gave a small shake of your head. “Ma’am?”

“Well, Fili is one day to be King,” she went on, “surely that must only add to his charms as far as a young woman is concerned?”

Indignation pricked at you with her meaning, and though your manner remained humble, the squaring of your shoulders did not escape her notice.

“Truly, whether Fili should be a King or a stable hand, I would love him the same, and wish only to be worthy of the love he bears me,” you said, a short, ironic laugh escaping your lips as you reflected, “in truth, I sometimes think I should _prefer_ him to be a stable hand, that we might always live a simple life, free from the cares of the crown and the judgment of the high-born. So, you see, my lady, if you take me for a woman who would attach myself to Fili for the sake of advancement…forgive me, but you are mistaken.”

Dis had cocked her head to listen to you with a shrewd look in her eye, but in the heavy silence that followed your declaration, her expression softened, and a smile that was both genuine and kind creased her face.

“I believe you,” she said, sighing as she relaxed into the chair. “Forgive me, child, I did not mean the insult I know you felt. As my brother well knows, I would fight tooth and nail to protect Fili from those who would see his marriage as an opportunity for personal gain, whether they be political allies or ambitious young ladies.” She paused, shaking her head with an amused look. “And then, one day, Fili came home with stars in his eyes, talking about the girl at the bakery…looking more like his father than ever,” she smiled wistfully, and admitted, “and I worried, as a mother will. But I’ve seen how happy you make him, and now that I’ve met you, I understand why.” 

A breathy sigh left your own lips, and you said, sheepishly, “I have been so afraid you would not approve of me, that you would prefer Fili to court a noblewoman.”

“And from what royal line do you imagine Fili’s father came?” Dis smiled wryly. “I married my Vili because I loved him, madly, without a thought for his blood. All I’ve ever wished for Fili is a kind, honest girl who would love him for himself, and not for the throne that awaits him, and if you and Fili are half as happy as his father and I were, he will have chosen well.” Leaning forward, Dis clasped your hand bracingly and you beamed, eagerly returning the gesture just as Fili entered the room bearing a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers.

“How are my two favorite ladies getting on?”

Dis smiled, moving to pour the tea and hand you a cup. “Very well, indeed. You’ve found a lovely young woman here, darling.” She blew gently on her tea and sipped it before adding, decisively, “Don’t make me wait too long for grandchildren.”

”Far be it from me to disappoint my mother,” Fili shrugged with mock resignation, flashing you a delighted grin while he set about unwrapping the parcel of biscuits, and your cheeks burned once again with Dis’ frankness, though you returned his happy glance.

Dis busied herself with arranging the biscuits on a plate, then, taking up her cup again, proposed, “well, it’s only tea, my dears, but let us drink to love.”

Your eyes met Fili’s while he bent to add a lump of sugar to his tea, your breath nearly stolen by the tenderness in his gaze, and your voices joined together to repeat her words as you raised your cup to him.

“To love.”


End file.
